Spitting in the eye of a spiteful universe!

Main menu

Post navigation

116 A General Stink

Back when we were in school, on St. Patrick’s Day you were expected to wear something green on your person. If you were caught without some green on you, other people were allowed to pinch you. It was never clear if this was official policy or whether school administrators simply looked the other way, put this punitive system was vigorously enforced. You either conformed to the arbitrary one day dress code or you were pinched. And it was up to whoever was applying the fingers of justice where you got pinched and how hard. Some of these people were rank bastards about it. And it wasn’t a one-off either. Anyone catching you without green got to squeeze a bit of your flesh regardless of how many welts you’d already endured by that point. What this system had to do with Ireland or Catholicism was anybody’s guess, but when the morning of March 17th came around, you sure weren’t thinking about saints. You were digging in your closet and sock drawers for anything that would save your skin. But once you were properly attired, there was no guarantee you wouldn’t get micro-groped by those overly enthusiastic assholes who lived by the maxim “Pinch first, ask questions later.” So perhaps you went on the offensive, snapping out at others and playing color-cop in order to forestall any assaults on your own person. Or maybe you just hunkered down, wearing three long-sleeved shirts and a jacket, waiting for lunch recess when the worst of it would be over. Either way, it was a relief when you were finally old enough for St. Patrick’s Day to become a drinking holiday which has everything to do with Ireland and Catholicism.

This is Echo, one of Luka’s role-playing characters. She’s leveled up and up to the point where she’s so powerful, she’s one the verge of the divine, much like her cleavage. But she can’t just become a goddess by filling out an application at the post office. She needs to attract worshipers by performing godly acts. Luka would like your help coming up with godly acts for Echo to perform (beyond the pornographic ones that Skullard has already provided in full and horrendous detail). Please go to our Facebook page and give your suggestions for how we can elevate Echo to the heavenly realms. Because this is important. Vital, even.

The secretary is an invaluable asset to every office environment, performing her duties with prompt efficiency and foresight. If she does her job properly (and it is, of course, a “she“), everything runs so smoothly that you would hardly notice she’s there. It’s only when she screws up or is a slob that she draws attention to herself, and who would want that? Certainly not any man she works for. Learn how to keep your head down and work like a good little drone in A Secretary’s Day (1947).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Here’s a couple of precious snowflakes being protected by a celestial guardian and a useless dog. So nice of Kensington Funeral Home to remind us to keep our kiddies safe, isn’t it? Seems like such a public service runs the risk of cutting into their bottom line. But look at what they’re promoting: “Leave it in God’s hands. Trust the survival of your children to the angels and various loyal animals. Every thing will be fine now that you know heaven’s winged bodyguards are on the job. So let your kids play in the street with abandon.” Thanks Kensington Funeral Home.